Page 24 of Finding Peace
“Promise me you won’t hesitate to call if you need us,” Joe says, her voice softer now—threaded with genuine concern. “Any of you. We’ll be on the first flight out. I mean it.”
Jasper’s expression softens. “I promise, Joe.”
“And Abs.” I straighten at the mention of my name. “I’m here whenever you need me. Foranything.Okay?”
A soft smile pulls at my lips. I get the feeling her offer carries more weight than just tonight’s events—and judging by the way Jasper’s smile mirrors mine, I know exactly how much his sister’s offer means to him.
“Thank you, Joe,” I say quietly. “I’ll call you soon.”
“Thank god,” she groans dramatically. “I love them, but—besides Harper—there isentirelytoo much dick in my life.”
“Why you little—” Sebastian starts.
“Farò diventare rosso quel tuo culo,”another low voice growls before Josephine squeals with laughter.
“Okaygottagoloveyoubye!” Jasper blurts, ending the call before he can hear anything else.
An uncharacteristically mischievous smile spreads across Lincoln’s face. “You didn’t even let me tell her I love her, too.”
Jasper points at him. “Don’t even start. I’ll let all four of those guys fly here to kick your ass.”
Lincoln laughs as he winks at me.
“So,” Beau says after a beat. “Now what?”
Lawson exhales deeply. “Now… we wait.”
Chapter nine
Beau
Iseemtonoticeitbefore anyone else does.
The quiet.
Abigail’s been good at pretending all day—smiling when someone looks at her, nodding when Lawson talks strategy, laughing softly when Jasper cracks a joke at Lincoln’s expense. But the sound is thinner now. More fragile. Like, if anyone presses too hard, she’ll splinter.
At first, I tell myself it’s physical. She’s still healing. Still sore. Still recovering from the mental toll Christmas night took on her.
That would be reason enough.
But then there’s the look she gets sometimes. The one that reminds me too much of myself at seventeen, sitting on the edge of my bed, convinced the world would be better if I took up less space in it.
That’s the one that scares me.
She eats dinner, but barely. Just pushes the food around her plate more than she actually brings it to her mouth. Lincoln notices herreluctance, so he casually offers her another roll. Another bite. Another glass of water.
Once dinner is over, she finally works up the courage to ask if she can go to the barn to see the horses—especially Griffin—and every one of us tenses. Lawson’s already shaking his head before the words are fully out of her mouth.
“You’re not going out there alone,” he says.
“I didn’t say I was,” she replies.
“I’ll go,” I say.
Her eyes lift to mine, something unreadable flickering there. Relief, maybe. Or guilt. Or both.
Lucy appears at her side like she was summoned, pressing tight to Abigail’s leg as we pull on our jackets before I grab the gun by the door. The cold has sharpened outside, the kind that sneaks through and settles deep into your bones. And even though I live for the crisp air, I find myself flinching at the nip.
